The Things I Carry

Dear You,

Do other men like cargo pants? I live in them and have several pairs, both long and short. I'm wearing shorts at the moment, and my pockets are stuffed like a chipmunk's cheeks.

In my back pocket is my wallet, of course, with more plastic rectangles than I can possibly remember. Last week the fellow in the ticket kiosk asked if I were a member of the Crown Regal Club. Who knew? After a search through the wallet, I came up with the card, and if I go to the movies a few more times I'll get in for free. Or is it a free small popcorn?

A constant companion is my Leatherman micra. It's in the top side pocket, and with it I can adjust my glasses (the right lens is forever falling out), tweeze a hair, open a beer, scissors a lock of milady's hair and/or file my fingernail. And more, if I'm creative. Aaron gave it to me for Christmas years ago, and every so often it goes missing. Generally I find it in a pocket of a pair of cargo pants I've hung back in the closet.

In that same pocket is a cloth handkerchief. Men of a certain age, I'm told, have these things. I never blow my nose with it (it's for wiping the lens after I re-install it in the glasses), and I am ever vigilant for the possibility of presenting it to a weeping damsel. So far no luck on that one!

My new iTouch rides in the lower left pocket, and I reach for it at every excuse. I like to think it makes me au courant. The grandchildren love it -- I have some games on the thing. What I like is that it holds several novels and a handy reader. Also the most up-to-date weather reports. And I can keep up with the latest musings on Facebook.

What else? Oh, yes, my keys, some receipts, a pen (can't go anywhere without something to write with, even with the little Notepad function on the iTouch), the grocery list, my tiny bottle of nitroglycerin tablets . . . Tim O'Brien wrote a book about what the soldiers in Vietnam carried. Should I be uncomfortable making this association with the contents of my pants?